Wet
by Athena13
Summary: Set after Michael and Natalie's play in the rain. What if John saw?
1. Wet

**Wet**

By Athena13

For Becca  
Timeline: In the hotel after Michael and Natalie's outing in the rain

>>>>>>

"Here." Michael tossed Natalie a towel from his bathroom and grabbed one for himself.

Natalie took the towel and looked around Michael's room. She hadn't known he was living in the room she and Paul had lived in the brief time they had lived together. It was kind of creepy, actually. Once his killer had been identified it had begun to hit home that someone she had been involved with was now dead. Another dead man added to the growing list.

Shivering, Natalie tossed the towel onto the couch and began to pull off her soaked poncho.

"I'll hang it in the bathroom." Michael walked over and took the sodden bundle. "You all right?" He looked down at her.

"Yeah." Natalie bent her head down to avoid his piercing gaze. She picked up the towel and began to dry her hair.

"Hey, you're never going to be able to untangle it if you keep doing that." Michael moved closer and put his hands over hers. Natalie looked up at him curiously as he put his hands over hers and stopped her scrubbing motion.

"Listen, why don't you take a shower and I'll give you some scrubs to change into."

"I'll be fine. I'm just going to get wet if I go out there again."

"You don't have to go yet."

"Are you inviting me to hang out, Michael?" Natalie smirked at the idea.

"What's wrong with that?" Michael shrugged and took the towel out of her hand.

Natalie looked down to think about it. That's when she noticed that he had taken off his shirt. She bit her lip as she took in his muscular chest and washboard abs. She never knew that was hiding under his shirt.

But then when was she ever a good judge of anything?

"What's going on in that complicated head of yours?" Michael asked.

Natalie blew out a breath and looked back up at Michael. She opened her mouth to speak, but to her surprise and embarrassment instead of words a sob came out.

"Hey." Michael dropped the towel and put his hands on her shoulders. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that frightening?"

Natalie shook her head and laughed through her tears.

Michael sighed and pulled her into his arms.

"What did John do now?"

Natalie shook her head, unable to speak through her sobs.

"Shhhhh," Michael murmured and rubbed circles on her back.

After a few minutes, her sobs subsided and she took a deep breath. Then another.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled against his chest.

"You obviously needed that. So tell me, what did my brother do now?"

"It's not about John. Not really," she clarified after Michael made a noise indicating his doubt.

"Then what was it about?"

Embarrassed, Natalie pulled out of his arms.

"I'm getting you all wet."

"I'm already wet. We just played in the rain."

Natalie smiled. "We did, didn't we?" She sounded rather surprised. "Does this make us friends now or something?"

"I guess I don't completely hate you." Michael thumbed the tears off her right cheek.

Natalie looked into Michael's eyes. Soft brown eyes she noticed for the first time. She felt her cheeks heating up as she realized she could feel the heat pouring off his body. His half-naked body.

"You're shivering." Michael said softly.

"I'm wet and cold. And I'm going to get sick. I'm telling you." Natalie took the towel from Michael and mopped off her face and neck.

"You can't get sick from the rain. But you can compromise your immune system if you stand around wet and cold for too long. Why don't you take a shower, I'll get those scrubs."

Natalie nodded and cleared her throat.

"Then, maybe when you're done you'll tell me what those tears were about?"

Natalie shrugged and plastered on a fake smile.

"I'll try not to use all of the hot water." Natalie walked past him, trying not to flinch as she brushed against him in the small space in front of the couch.

"I'll need a cold shower anyway."

Natalie heard the whispered words he didn't mean for her to hear and took a deep breath. Her hand trembled as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

"Everything you need is on the dresser."

"Thanks." Natalie had gotten her equilibrium back in the long, hot shower. This was Michael McBain, he was a guy, but he was also harmless. He was in love with Marcie, he wasn't going to let anything happen. Not that she wanted it to she had firmly told herself. He was John's brother. They were just friends. Sorta.

Barely glancing at her, Michael went into the bathroom.

Letting out the breath she didn't realize she was holding, Natalie walked over to the dresser and picked up the comb he had thoughtfully placed on top of the green scrubs. Thankfully, Michael had decent conditioner so getting the comb through her wet locks wasn't that difficult. Once they were untangled and streaming down her back, she secured the towel around her body and looked around for something to tie her hair up with.

Damn. She had a band in her jeans, but they were hanging in the bathroom to dry.

She reached out and picked up the scrub top, just then the door to the room was flung open.

Startled, she spun around to see John standing in the doorway looking just as startled.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I was invited," Natalie said pointedly.

"Where's my brother?" he demanded.

"In the shower." Natalie relished the words coming out of her mouth when she saw John's eyes darken. "Why are you here?"

"Roxy said Michael needed me. I can guess why she sent me in here." The rasp of his voice sent shivers up and down her spine. As it always did.

Natalie watched as he put his hand on the door, but was surprised when instead of leaving he closed it behind him and walked into the room.

Conscious of her nudity, Natalie smoothed the towel against her hips. She boldly looked at him as he got closer.

In seconds John was in front of Natalie and there was no disguising his seething anger.

"Couldn't have me so you thought you'd have my brother?"

Shocked, Natalie backed up until she hit the dresser.

"You know, I didn't actually mean for you to literally use all of the hot water," Michael complained as he walked out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of jeans and towel around his neck.

"Oh, hey, John. I didn't know you were here." Michael looked back and forth between his brother and Natalie. "What's going on?"

"I didn't know you went for my cast offs, Michael." John rasped cruelly.

Natalie's hand shot out to smack him, but he caught her before she connected with his face.

"You're hurting me," Natalie tried to pull her wrist out of his vice-like grip.

"Let her go, John."

John complied with Michael's order.

"I can see now why you kept hounding me about Evangeline. You wanted Natalie for yourself."

John looked at his brother, then at Natalie. In that moment, the delicate truce of the past year seemed to disappear between the two brothers.

"I thought you loved Marcie."

Natalie shivered at the coldness passing between them. It was like two strangers measuring each other in preparation for a battle.

"John, nothing is…" Natalie began to explain.

"Don't bother." John's words were clipped.

"Don't speak to her that way." Michael warned.

"Standing up for your whore, how wonderful."

Her ire up, Natalie stepped forward.

"Don't, Natalie."

Natalie's head whipped around. She had never heard that tone in Michael's voice. She didn't know he could sound like that.

Seeing the anger and the plea in her eyes, Michael relented.

"Not that it's any of your business, but Natalie and I got wet in the rain. I was giving her some dry clothes. Nothing happened."

"But really good job insulting both of us. Especially Natalie. You don't deserve her, man."

"You're right, I don't." John looked at Natalie, his blue eyes were bleak.

"I was wasting my breath all along. With both of you."

John and Natalie looked warily at each other. "John, I know you were just jealous."

"Don't make excuses for me, Natalie. I'm not worth it."

"I think you are." Natalie moved forward and put her hand on his arm.

As if burned, John backed away until his progress was stopped by the couch.

"You should get dressed and I should leave."

Natalie just looked at him. Daring him. Taunting him.

Without a word John turned and walked out of the room. She got a small bit of satisfaction when the door slammed behind him.


	2. Dry

**Dry**

**By Athena13**

**Sequel to Wet**

"I'm sorry." Michael's face was grim.

"For what?" Natalie asked.

Michael shrugged. "I'm not sure really. That was ugly."

"He was jealous."

"He was an asshole." Michael slid the towel off his shoulders and absently put it on top of the dresser.

"You just don't understand why when he was such a perfect girlfriend."

"I never said that. All I ever said is that." Michael stopped and frowned. His hand hovered over an open drawer of t-shirts.

"What?"

"I'm getting out of the advice and opinion business. I should've just kept my big mouth shut." He turned away and pulled out a shirt and began to put it on.

"So you keep saying." Natalie swallowed past an unexpected feeling of disappointment that he was covering his beautiful body. It was a shame he always looked like a dork in the clothes he wore.

"Go get dressed. I'll dig out some menus and we can order food. If you're still going to stay, that is," Michael said.

"I don't have anywhere else to be." Natalie put her hand up. "I didn't mean that like it sounded."

"I bet." Michael grinned and playfully punched her on the shoulder.

Conscious of her nudity, Natalie flushed and swiftly made her way into the bathroom with her scrubs in hand.

"Damn it." Michael let out the breath he had been holding and ran a hand through his wet hair. He wasn't sure who he was more pissed off at. Himself for getting in the way of whatever the hell it was between his brother and the woman he was obviously torn up about or his brother for his cruelty.

Michael had worked really hard to get over his resentment of his brother, but now it was back burning in his stomach. He'd always hated how John acted as if losing their father only happened to him. John's grief was his greatest defense and, as he just displayed, his greatest weapon. Michael hated him for it. It was weak and selfish and greedy.

But he would get over it once the first flash of anger passed. He knew John was irreparably damaged by the loss of his father, of Caitlin and whatever else happened at the FBI that he wouldn't talk about. And by Haver's targeting of Natalie, he could see now that it played a big part in his brother's complex relationships with Evangeline and the red head covering her sexy body in his bathroom.

And that was the other thing burning him up.

He'd always known Natalie was an attractive woman. He enjoyed looking at her and watching her move as much as any guy admiring something pretty. But since their exchange at the Diner, when he realized that mustard on fries wasn't so bad after all, he'd also realized that Natalie was more than just a pretty face. Every run-in afterwards had left him just a bit breathless and a lot turned on.

He wasn't dating Marcie.

Unbidden, the thought popped into his head again.

John was dating Evangeline. He said he didn't want her.

And Michael did. Want Natalie.

His heart pounding, Michael opened the drawer by the telephone and began sifting through menus. He didn't really know what Natalie liked to eat, he realized.

Or taste like.

"What do you want to order?" Natalie asked as she came out of the bathroom.

He turned and saw her, dressed in his scrubs, her hair tied back. She looked cute; and desirable.

"Um. I don't know what you like. Here." He thrust a messy pile of menus towards her.

"You don't do much cooking do you?" Natalie sat down cross-legged on the couch and starting organizing the papers.

"Don't have time." He tried to block out the image of her wet shirt plastered to her lush curves.

"How about Chinese?" She looked up at him and her smile slipped. She recognized the look.

Natalie pushed the menus off her lap and stood up. "I should go."

"You don't have to."

"You love Marcie. And I want John."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do want John? Why don't you think you deserve better than to have a man who doesn't want you."

"He does want me. Was that not obvious just now in how jealous he got?"

"Natalie, he might not want you with anyone else, but he's not beating down your door claiming you for himself. He's with Evangeline."

"He doesn't love her." Natalie crossed her arms.

"You don't know that."

"I do." Natalie glared at him.

"And still, he's not beating down your door. You deserve better, Natalie. You deserve a man who appreciates your beautiful face. Your spunk. You. You're just not right for my brother."

"Who am I right for?" Natalie demanded.

Michael looked at her. And wondered.

End


End file.
